The glowing sun hung high above the field clearing, casting a bright glow over the sparse trees and the two figures facing each other.
Any who witnessed this confrontation would think it was unfair.
Mordred was practically the best Mage in the Kingdom. His darkened hair fluttered as he maintained a stern demeanor.
He stood tall and confident, his deep blue cloak swirling slightly in the cold air.
Across from him was Neron, a twelve-year-old boy.
The result of the battle was already decided just based on the matchup.
But… these two knew better than to judge their fight based on such factors
Neron glared at Mordred with intense focus. His black eyes blazed with determination and curiosity, his hands crackling with barely restrained power.